Homophile Rhapsody
by Ironwolf935
Summary: Is this the real life...is this just fantasy?


_**No material in this fic is meant to offend anyone in any way. It is only for comical effect. The views and opinions of different characters do not reflect my own. Please enjoy.**_

I hate faggots.

Not homosexuals, mind you. There lies a fine line between faggots and homosexuals; the former being those I detest with an undying passion. See, homosexuals are those who are attracted to people of the same sex as them. Romantically. Gays, lesbos, bisexuals, you get what I mean.

Faggots share this trait, but there's a major difference between the two.

Homosexuals act no different than us in normal society. They have a diverse group of friends, buy groceries, yell at each other for not paying the electricity bill on time, those kinds of things. To put it simply, homosexuals are tolerable. They're at least halfway decent and are good people once you get to know them.

Faggots on the other hand...well...

How does one describe a faggot?

Let me put it this way; you know those pervs who go marching in San Fransisco with their dicks and tits showing? Those are faggots.

You know those really 'feminine' guys who have a voice box that sounds like Mickey Mouse ass raping Elmo with a six inch dildo? Those are faggots.

You know...you know...

"Ah! Ah, yes...deeper, Shadow...deeper!"

You know those assholes who claim not to be faggots at all, then go ahead shove their faggotry down your throat on a seemingly daily basis?

Those are also faggots.

Like two certain faggots fucking each other's brains out behind the bathroom door in front of me. The only bathroom in our entire apartment, mind you. While I need to piss. Wearing my boxers. At ten in the morning.

Yes; it's ten in the morning. Haven't even had a goddamned cup of coffee and I have to deal with this faggotry.

Sigh.

My hand bangs twice against the door, teeth gritting down in growing annoyance. Their moans of ecstasy are instantly replaced by several whispers of "Oh shit", the tile flooring beginning to squeak below them.

After what seems to be an eternity the door opens, revealing none other than the Ultimate Queerform and the Fastest Twink Alive. Queerform scowls my way with his arms crossed, trying to deter my attention from Twink's obvious blushing.

"You two can come out of the closet any day now." Says I, returning the scowl to Queerform.

His crimson eyes narrow down to me, annoyed. "Nothing was going on, **fox**." He says, venom lingering in his voice. "Mind your own business."

I laugh.

"You're kidding me, right? Please tell me you're joking or something."

Queerform's glare remains constant, saying otherwise. I continue, turning to the Twink.

"Sonic, I could hear you through the fucking door. You were moaning like a cat masturbating with tuna fish."

He lets out a nervous chuckle, cheeks flushing a deeper red.

"Look, Tails, I don't know what you think you heard, but-"

"Oh, I know exactly what I heard." Says I, cutting off the Twink mid sentence. "I heard you; practically begging this asshole right here..."

Queerform growls.

"...to pop your fucking prostate like a balloon. Now, in all honesty, am I right or am I right?"

"Wrong." replies Queerform, speaking for the Twink. "Like I just said. Nothing. Happened."

Another sigh. Right hand plants on my forehead.

"Okay then..." I seethe out to the both of them, hand sliding down my face.

Sort of like how Squidward does when Spongebob pisses him off one too many times, stealing his clarinet and using it as a cattle prod or something like that. No? No one knows what I mean? Anyone?

Never mind then, fuck you. Fuck you and that pink faggot, Patrick.

"...if that's the case then tell me, exactly what **were** you two doing in there?"

Silence falls over the room as Qweerform and Twink glance over to each other, their eyes screaming with 'How the fuck do we get out of this one?'

In all reality there's no way out of it. Just try and come up with some bullshit story that sounds somewhat believable; that's the only chance they really have.

Really though, I don't understand why they don't just let it out already. Everyone knows anyway; it's not like this huge secret they've kept hidden away for years.

Amy found out while at Queerform's old place, Knuckles spotted them while walking through the park at night, and Sally caught them at Mobotropolis' Protestant Church.

Yes, I know. A church. King Max's favorite church, at that. They might as well have taken a piss on the Mobian national flag.

Speaking of which, I still need to piss.

Twink chuckles nervously a second time, left hand brushing the back of his quills. "Well, what happened was...we were... um..."

"The shower head came loose." Says Qweerform, saving Twink's already ravaged ass. "A few of the screws fell down the drain, and I couldn't reach them. Faker here helped me fish them out."

Twink nods rapidly towards me, hoping I'll buy their bullshit story.

Sorry, but having and I.Q. of over three hundred kind of gives you a built-in bullshit detector.

And mine is going off the charts.

"Oh; so that's all?" Asks I, glaring to the both of them with arms crossed. "The shower head just needed to be fixed?"

"That's what I just said, so yes." Says Queerform, growling my way.

I smirk.

"So what was all the moaning about, again?"

Twink's gaze falls to the floor the second he hears me, cheeks flushing a crimson similar to Queerform's stripes. The ebony hedgehog previously mentioned continues to take my questioning, his cobalt fuckbuddy remaining as useless as possible.

"First of all, it wasn't moaning. It was grunting."

Grunting? So we're moving from moaning and onto grunting now, two things that are almost the exact same thing? Whatever helps you sleep at night; faggot.

"Second of all, the reason **why** we were grunting was because it was stuck. We tried putting it back in, but the screws wouldn't stay in place."

"So what we did is..." Twink pipes up suddenly, putting his hands out in front of him as though grabbing the shower head. "...we tried twisting it back into the socket so it would fit, but it kept falling out."

He turns his hands clockwise to demonstrate the motion, completely oblivious to the irritated glare being fired his way.

"I still don't understand where the moaning came into play."

"**Grunting**!" Yells Queerform, unamused.** "**And we're getting there!"

Gee, someone's getting butthurt all of the sudden.

Get it? Butthurt?

Never mind; fuck you and go eat a dick.

"Anyway..." Twink pleads, both our attention turning back to him. "Eventually we decided we needed to get a screwgun..."

So wait a minute, you two weren't using a screwgun before? What, were you trying to twist the screws in with your dickholes or something? Then again, that would explain the moaning.

"...Shadow tried using it to get the shower head in place, but it still wouldn't work. He was starting to get pissed off, so that's probably what you heard."

"What about when you climaxed?"

Twink takes a step back, my words catching him off guard. "What...do you mean?" He stutters, trying to avoid the obvious.

I let out an amused chuckle.

"I mean just before I walked in, when you screamed **OH GOD DEEPER SHADOW DEEPER **at the top of your lungs!"

Queerform raises his hands in alarm, motioning for me to quiet down. Hoping the rest of the apartment complex hasn't already heard me.

"Again...we're getting there." Says Queerform, quietly seething out the words. "Shut up and listen."

I know something Blue here should have kept shut.

"As I was saying;" Continues the Twink. "Shadow wasn't the only one who was starting to get annoyed. Eventually I got to the point where I just started screaming at it, yelling for Shadow to just 'dig it in deeper' so we would be finished."

"Where did the screwgun go, anyway?" Asks I, my head tilting to the side mockingly.

"The void." Says Twink, impulsively, quickly running out of excuses.

Queerform fires him a death glare before looking back to me, talking over his cobalt partner, their words muddling together like a week old cabbage soup.

"Yeah, like um...just...The Void."

"Space."

"Empty space."

"Just black, empty space."

"The Nether."

It amazes me how horrible, yet elaborate their lies are.

"Okay...so let me get this straight." I begin, a hand rising to my chin for deep thought. "According to what you just told me, the shower head came loose and you tried to fix it without a screwgun. Then it suddenly occurred to you that you needed a screwgun in the first place, so you magically got one from thin air. Then tried fixing it again, grunting and screaming orgasmicly all the way. And once that was finally over with, you tossed the screwgun into a fictional, hellish realm that exists in Minecraft?"

They nod to me in response, giving up their case.

"Alright; you two are faggots, end of discussion. Now get the fuck out, because I need to piss."

With a disgruntled sigh they slither past me. Queerform's eyes narrowed down to me like a hawk. The cherry red of Twink's cheeks never fading. I step inside.

Shut the door. Actually no, scratch that; slam the door. I'm not in a good mood today.

Lock it.

Open the toilet seat. Undo the zipper.

And piss.

Ahhhhh...

"Ah...ah..."

Wait; what?

"C'mon, suck it. Suck it, Blue; lick it like a lolipah...ah! **AH GOD!**"

Right hand falls over my eyes, massaging my temples.

I hate faggots. I really, really, fucking hate faggots.

_**Well, this chapter is finished. You can all put your dicks away now.**_

_**Thank's for reading...perverts.**_


End file.
